The rider had the horse in his heart.
Where could he find a better friend to tell his secrets to.
He fed him wild barley, four-leafed clover;
he had decorations on his saddle of shining shell.
It was white, all white, it was fast and smart,
it galloped on the naked mountains and strayed from the shade.
But one ill-fated day, beneath a fig tree,
it came across a snake which gave its bite.
Only five minutes later, but as if centuries had passed
the rider is mourning its death and is caressing its flanks.
“My companion, confide in me; where are you going?
Let’s make a vow. In time I will find you or you will find me.”
He returns with his head down low, to his house, and opens the door,
he nails the windows shut and starts drinking.
Meanwhile, the vultures gathered around the horse
leaving only the tail and its skeleton.
A craftsman was passing by, who had learned in Kremona
how to make fiddles and violins which would last for years.
He saw the hair of the tail, white and silky,
he took it and made bows out of it, one by one.
It took the young man two months to open the window
On a Tuesday, the first day of the month, he goes out to the fair.
There were lute-players who wanted to be asked to play,
and a violin player who turned heads. 1
“Health and joy to the fiddler. I will give you lots of money.
I want to hear the good stuff, maybe I will feel lighter.”
Ten times he passed resin over the bow,
he placed his instrument to his chin with pride,
and as he began to bow, up and down,
he turned the world upside down, put the earth on the plate.
The man throws handfuls of money, and dances
A whinny is heard and he loses his mind.
1. he was so good at playing that got everyone's attention